The New Age
by lmharmon
Summary: With no angels to fear, and Abaddon as the new Queen of Hell, demons are making their presence known on earth.
1. Chapter 1

**Nine Months Later: February 15, 2014**

**3:40 PM**

**The Men of Letters Bunker (Lebanon, Kansas)**

"_David and Carol Moffat of Spokane, Washington, a once infertile couple, have given birth to twins today!" "A young couple in Warlaby have given birth to a miracle child!" "86 year old Swiss woman gives birth to a healthy baby boy!" "The _centaurium erythraea_, an endangered plant in Sweden, has begun to grow out of season!" "Increase in population of European rabbit!" "Polar ice caps refreezing!" _

Sam, wrapped in a thick, wool blanket from head to toe, sat at a desk in one of the main rooms of the bunker, skimming through today's biggest headlines on his laptop. His sniffed. This, it seemed, was the legacy of the fallen angels, Anna Milton times a couple million. Miracle children and the reconstruction of the environment. From this, it was easy to think that Metatron had, after all, done a good deed. But that was just not so.

Other news articles, the ones the newspapers were hiding behind the cute baby photos and newly planted gardens, had titles like, "_Another Pregnant Woman Murdered in South Africa," "Portuguese Football Coach Charged with Brutal Molestation," "50 More Dead from Botched Organ Trafficking in Poland_." Without any angels to fear, the demons were having a field day, month, year. These titles weren't as bad as some of the others Sam had seen, but they still made him hate himself a little more.

Out of nowhere, Sam began to cough violently. Blood spattered across the computer screen, and the blanket surrounding him seemed to be making him colder. Sam threw it off, and covered his mouth with his forearm until the hacking stopped. Once it did, he grabbed a tissue and began scrubbing at the computer screen, attempting to get the blood off. It only half-worked, but well enough that Sam could see the screen again. He threw the soiled tissue in the already full trash can at his feet.

This sort of outburst was not rare, but in fact, happened about twice in a 24 hour period. After 9 months, Sam couldn't really say he was used to it, but it, like so much else, had become a part of life.

Behind him, Sam heard footsteps, and he turned to see Dean coming in, both hands full of grocery bags. Crowley was beside him, a case of beer tucked under one arm, a box containing a new toaster under the other, to replace the one that had burnt out.

"Hey," said Dean, setting the grocery bags down on the table beside Sam. He eyed the trash can suspiciously. "How are you feeling?"

"Great!" replied Sam, a fake grin splitting across his face from ear to ear. He took his foot and moved the trash can out of Dean's line of sight. "How was the senator?"

"Much better than the last one!" piped in Crowley cheerily, placing the beer and toaster beside the grocery bags. "This one _lived_."

Over the past months, the demons had made a habit of possessing people in positions of power, much like the Leviathans had done with Dick Roman. Some of their favorite people were politicians - mayors, governors, senators. As far as they could tell, the president had been left alone, though they could have just been doing a good job of hiding it. The senator from Missouri that Dean and Crowley had presumably just saved, had gone, in the course of a day, from being a staunch environmentalist, to wanting to cut down an entire state park. The "last one" had been from South Dakota, and he had not be so lucky. Dean had had to put Ruby's knife through his chest.

"I'll put these away!" said Crowley, grabbing the grocery bags from the table and heading toward the kitchen with them. Sam and Dean watched him go.

"How is he?" asked Sam, once Crowley was one of earshot.

"As cheerful as ever," said Dean, taking a beer out of the case Crowley had left and popping the cap off. He took a long drink. "All he wanted to talk about on the way home was how great the cinematography in _Game of Thrones_ is."

Sam chuckled. In all honesty, he still wasn't entirely comfortable living under the same room as the former King of Hell, but sometimes, New Crowley was kind of amusing.

Though the ritual had never been completed, the effect Sam's purified blood had had on Crowley in the church had not subsided, but seemed to have morphed and settled into what was now New Crowley, who liked to watch HBO, cook, and sing show tunes. He still had all of his demon powers though, which had come in quite handy. Because Sam was basically useless except for research, Crowley had started going out on hunts with Dean, once they'd established that he wasn't faking it, and really was the "nice guy" that he claimed to be. It was also rather nice that many of the demons they encountered were still scared shitless of Crowley, even though one of them had said that Abaddon was now ruling Hell, and was, in his own words, "much scarier than Crowley had ever been."

"You're back," said a flat voice.

Sam and Dean looked up to see Kevin appearing from the hallway down which was his bedroom. His hair was a mess, his clothes were wrinkled, and he had bags under his eyes. He looked, for the second time in his life, like hell.

"Have you been reading the angel tablet?" asked Dean.

Kevin nodded.

"_And_?"

Kevin shrugged. "Same as."

"Kevin, it's been nine months. How could you-"

"Don't you think I know that, Dean?" snapped Kevin. "I know what's going on out there. I want to fix things just as much as you do. _And_ I want to get away from Crowley. But I'm telling you, there is nothing on that tablet about how to put the angels back in Heaven. Not unless you want to round up a bunch of newborn babies, along with their graces, that have fallen _all across the earth_, and then figure out which one goes with which."

Dean sighed. "I'm sorry, Kevin. It's just..."

"Don't worry about it," said Kevin, taking a seat across the table from Sam and putting his head down. "If only Castiel hadn't been such an idiot."

Dean's jaw clenched. "Cas thought he was doing the right thing."

"Did someone say Castiel?" asked Crowley, appearing from the kitchen. "Has someone spoken to him? Is he here?"

"No, Crowley, he's not here," said Dean, rolling his eyes.

"Oh," said Crowley, obviously disappointed. "You know, I have all these demon powers and I know loads of witchcraft, and nothing I do seems to help me locate him. He doesn't have to hide. All I want to do is apologize."

"Metatron probably did something with him. Either that, or he fell like the rest and just got reborn as someone's bundle of joy. You can probably stop looking for him now, Crowley," said Sam.

"But-"

Dean slammed his beer bottle down on the table and quickly exited the room. He wasn't entirely sure when it had started, but sometime after the Fall, whenever someone mentioned Castiel, Dean's heart would start to race and he'd feel dizzy and unable to breath. He felt like he was drowning.

"Was it something I said?" Dean heard Crowley ask as his palms slipped on his bedroom door. He wiped his hands on his jeans, tried the door again, and failed. Dean slowly slid to the floor, his legs tucked beneath him. He looked upward. "Cas," the prayer came, though Dean was sure his friend could not longer hear him. "Please come back to me. I need you, man."

"We all need you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Nine Months Later: February 15, 2014**

**5:40 PM**

**Jody Mills' House (Sioux Falls, SD)**

Castiel hummed quietly to himself as he mixed a salad in Jody's kitchen. She'd be home from the police station soon, and more likely than not, she'd have skipped lunch. Which meant she'd be hungry.

Cas turned away from the salad and examined the steaks sizzling on the stove. "I think they're done," muttered Cas to himself, taking them off the burner. He winced when he accidentally grazed his arm against the side of the still hot pan.

Nine months ago, when Charlie had dropped Cas off at Jody's doorstep, and proclaimed that the fallen angel needed somewhere to stay, Cas had doubted that this was where he would be months down the road.

It had all started when Metatron had cut out his grace and dropped him back on earth as a living, breathing human in Pontiac, Illinois, where his vessel, Jimmy Novak had been from. Unfortunately, Jimmy Novak wasn't there anymore, and it was just Cas, who hadn't the faintest idea about how to go about being human. What he did know how to do, though, was get drunk, and that he did. Once he'd found the nearest bar, he'd settled in, and found that the alcohol affected him much more quickly than it ever had when he was an angel. He couldn't really decide if this was good or bad.

By some miracle, Charlie, a friend of Dean's who Cas recognized from one of the times that he'd, yet again, been invisibility watching over him, had been passing through town. Cas had then drunkenly slurred enough information to her that she'd figured out who he was, paid his outrageously high tab, and dragged him out of there.

Luckily, Cas wasn't the only one who had a habit of stalking the Winchesters. Once Charlie had tried to contact the Winchesters, against Cas' protests, and failed, Charlie had contacted Jody Mills, whose information she had gotten off the boys' phones.

Not surprisingly, Jody had been reluctant at first about taking Cas in, especially considering that she hadn't really been aware of the whole angel situation. She didn't understand why Charlie, who she'd also never met before, couldn't deal with him. When Charlie insisted that she had some sort of job that she had to travel a lot for, Jody had agreed, as long Cas also got his own job. Cas had then agreed to this once both women had promised not to tell Sam and Dean where he was; he hadn't been ready to talk to them yet, and he still wasn't.

As for the job, the new house Jody had bought after her family's death had a greenhouse attached to it, which Jody had primarily used for storage, but with a little help, Cas had been able to set it up as his own little flower shop. He had done well during the spring and summer, but fall and winter had been a lot slower. He'd be worried Jody might be upset about this, but she'd never said a word. Cas was beginning to suspect that she liked his company.

In a private section in the back of the greenhouse, which Jody was pretending she didn't know about, Cas had started growing marijuana. Not to sell, but for himself. Cas knew that in this country, humans had largely outlawed it's use, but the effects of the plant allowed him to relax and forget about all that he had lost.

"I thought it was my turn to cook!" said Jody, entering the kitchen with her coat half off and her face still pink from the cold February air. Cas pulled himself out of his thoughts and turned to her.

"Well, I figured you'd be tired," said Cas, sliding the steak, along with some warm bread and rice onto two plates and heading toward the kitchen table with them. Jody dropped her coat on a bar stool, grabbed the salad bowl and plates, and followed.

"You know, you're not my servant," said Jody, as she helped Cas arrange the table. "You don't have to do this everyday."

Cas smiled at her. "I know. But I like to."

Before Jody could reply, the doorbell rang. "Who could that be?"

"I'll get it," said Cas. He wiped his hands off on a towel and headed toward the front door.

Before opening the door, Cas looked through the peephole and saw Charlie standing there, an anxious expression on her face. "This can't be good," said Cas to himself.

"I'm sorry, I know this is probably a bad time," said Charlie once Cas had opened the door and invited her in.

"Is something wrong?" asked Cas.

Charlie hesitated before saying, "Maybe."

Cas followed her down the hall to the kitchen, where Jody was waiting curiously. She frowned when she saw Charlie "We weren't expecting you."

"I know! I'm sorry. Again. I just... I think I might have found something important that I need to tell you guys. Well, Cas, mostly...," said Charlie in a rush. She looked uneasy.

"Well, spit it out, then," said Jody.

"I... I think Naomi might not be dead," said Charlie. "Not exactly, anyway."

"_What_?" said Cas and Jody in unison. Over time, Cas had filled Jody in on the whole story. By now, she knew even more than the Winchesters did.

Charlie rummaged around in her bag and pulled out an article from an Arkansas newspaper. She handed it to Cas. Jody leaned over his shoulder. "_Bentonville Baby Born with Strange Scar on Head_," read the headline.

"Naomi Hughes," said Cas aloud as he skimmed over the article.

"You said that the last time you saw her, she had some kind of drill in the back of her head. But... that's not how you kill angels, right? You'd need an angel blade...," said Charlie. She bit her lip and waited for some sort of reply from Cas, who was still looking over the article. When no reply came, she pushed, "So... do you think it means anything? Or am I just being super paranoid?"

Cas finished reading the article and handed it back to Charlie, his expression blank. "Even if it is Naomi, she's just a baby. A human baby. She's harmless."

"But what about Metatron?" asked Jody. "He sounds like a pretty sick guy, and he hated Naomi the most. He could still try and mess with her, couldn't he? Make her human life hell?"

At first Cas didn't react to this, but then, something she said registered and his head snapped around to look at her, his eyes wide and thoughtful, as if pieces were falling together in his head, at long last. He looked from Jody to Charlie and back.

"We need to go to Arkansas."


End file.
